


Don't Spare the Cane

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, BDSM, Caning, Dom!Death, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, NSFW, Snarky Dean, Sub!Dean, Subspace, cumming untouched, mentions of flogging, this is sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Dean and Julian try something involving Julian's cane.





	Don't Spare the Cane

**Author's Note:**

> So. 
> 
> Yeah. 
> 
> This thought has never left my head. Now it's written. 
> 
> You're welcome for the image of Death caning the shit out of Dean's ass. 
> 
> Set two years or so after the events of Youthful Love. You don't have to read that one to understand this one.

“I require your safeword, Dean,” Julian’s voice was soft, calm, demanding. Like it usually was. 

Dean stretched the best he could. Of course, he was already stretched out. The spreader bar was around his ankles, he was bent over the bed with pillows underneath his hips to prop his ass up more. He was on his tiptoes as a result, but at least his ass looked good. Or at least he hoped. His hands were bound and stretched above his head with the soft leather cuffs. He shivered. 

“I’ve given it to you,” he managed to say. He and Julian had been playing for a while, working up to what Dean was eager for. What was coming next. 

Julian was a careful Dom, though. Sometimes, like now, that drove Dean insane. But it never failed to warm Dean’s heart. 

“I’d like to hear it again,” Julian murmured, running a gentle hand up Dean’s back. 

Dean turned his head to the side, eyeing the solid black cane that Julian had walked around with ever since his husband tore his ACL four years ago. It used to be for long distances. Now, it had become almost an affectation. And it made Dean half hard whenever he saw Julian with it. Which was every day. 

His flesh was hot to the touch. Which made sense, considering how long he and Julian had been playing. And how much Julian has worked his back, ass, and thighs. 

Dean figured he’d cum around the time Julian started using the cane on him. Which he hoped was soon. Although he came close when Julian was using the oil lathered flogger on his back. He groaned at the sense memory. 

“Dean.” Julian’s voice. It sounded far away. Was he in his headspace? Probably. 

He tried to make his voice work. He could move his lips, trying to form his safe word, but no sound was coming out. 

“I want you to drink for me, Dean,” Julian said, pressing a straw to Dean’s lips. 

Oh. Maybe his throat was dry. He couldn’t tell. His entire body crackled with electricity, magnified by his husband’s touch. 

He wrapped his lips around the straw at Julian’s command and sipped. Apple juice? White grape juice? Peach-grape juice? It was something like that. Dean couldn’t place it, nor did he care. Once the juice of fruit hit his tongue, he drank eagerly. 

“Slowly,” Julian soothed. “I don’t want you to get sick or choke.” 

That would be bad, Dean reasoned, slowing down his drinking. 

“Good,” Julian praised, and Dean felt a flush come over his face. No matter the fact that he and Julian had been together for a combination of sixteen years- twelve of those married- his husband praising him never ceased to make him feel warm and embarrassed. In a good way. “My perfect little one. You’re doing so good with the warm ups, Dean. I’m proud of you.” 

Dean melted, sucking up the last bit of juice with the straw before letting the straw from his lips. 

“Finished?” Julian smiled. “Good. So good for me, Dean. Feel a bit better?” 

Dean gave a nod, groaning as he stretched. He was hot, needy, wanton. He pressed his ass up a little higher, trying to get Julian to hit it. 

Julian’s self control, however was pretty much unbreakable. Dean knew that when his husband was all Dominating and shit, the exercise of control the man exercised was inhuman. Unholy, Dean’s called it before. Other times. . . well, Dean’s been known to get his way. 

As a result, Julian just gave a soft, amused chuckle. 

“Impatient brat,” he said affectionately. “I need your safeword, Dean.” 

“Poughkeepsie,” Dean mumbled. 

“Good, little one,” Julian whispered. “Very good. Stay nice and relaxed for me, okay?” 

That would be very easy for Dean to follow. 

“And you may cum whenever.” 

Oh thank God.

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath, feeling himself melt fully into his headspace. Feeling crackled and fizzled along his spine as Julian ran his fingers down Dean’s back, settling just above his ass. He moaned, wriggling slightly. 

“Stay still, little one,” Julian soothed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There was a retort, somewhere fuzzy in Dean’s mind. Something like  _ I asked for this, asshole.  _ He tried to say it. All it came out was a garbled moan. Besides, he was powerless to resist the command. Not when he was soft and pliant like this, not when Julian spoke like that. Granted, he’s fairly certain that he couldn’t ever NOT disobey his husband. Sass him for sure, though. 

Julian softly laughed as Dean stilled. “Want to try that again?” He teased lightly. 

Dean moaned. He wanted to try to speak again, but it was like there was a disconnect in his brain. How did Julian disconnect his brain?

Death magic. Absolutely. Something about morticians, death, and magic. Probably involving embalming fluid.

Or maybe it’s just Julian. 

Dean barely had time to speculate on the reason for his inability to articulate words. There was something definitely slim and solid cracking on top of his ass. 

He let out a scream.  _ God. _ It hurt, even more than the time they experimented with a belt, but it felt  _ so good. _ His toes curled into the plush carpeting. A hand wrapped around the chain connecting the cuffs to the headboard. 

“I can hear how much you liked that,” Julian murmured. “That was beautiful, little one. Another?” 

Dean nodded his head eagerly, whining. He needed that again. He could feel the welt rising, and he had no doubt his ass would be the color of bing cherries when Julian was done. 

“So eager,” Julian laughed softly. “Stay nice and pliant for me, little one.” 

Another crack and Dean sobbed. His cock wept, trapped between the soft pillows and the taut lines of Dean’s body. 

Julian showed little mercy, giving Dean a bit of pause in between each strike just in case Dean needed to safeword. 

Dean was the furthest thing from safewording. He was loving every single blow that Julian was laying across his ass. He just hoped that Julian wasn’t overexerting himself. He probably was. Stubborn old man. 

Julian was careful not to let the cane fall in one spot more than once or twice, laying down each blow in neat, even rows across Dean’s rear, enjoying the screams, shouts, and whines of pleasure. He extended the caning to the tops of Dean’s thighs. 

It took a little longer than either man anticipated, Dean managed to cum loudly, screaming his pleasure as his hips rocked violently into the pillows. 

Julian tossed the cane aside and sat down on the bed next to Dean’s head, soothing him. He ran his fingers through sandy hair and pressed kisses into the skin of Dean’s shoulders. 

Dean’s cries and whimpers died down after a long soothing process, normal after an intense impact play session, and Julian undid Dean’s cuffs. 

“Dean? Can you hear me?” Julian whispered softly. 

A very quiet “yeah” emitted from where Dean’s face was. 

Julian smiled, massaging Dean’s arms to increase circulation. “How do you feel, little one?” he asked. 

“Stingy,” Dean moaned. God. Julian’s long fingers knew exactly how to get all the knots out of his arms. He loved this. The aftercare. Julian taking care of him. 

“I’ll put some arnica on your ass,” Julian soothed. “And on your back. And thighs.” He smirked softly. “You’re not going to be walking or sitting right for a while.” 

Dean gave a lazy smile, slowly bringing one arm to take Julian’s hand. “Totally worth it,” he slurred. 

Julian laughed softly. “Masochist,” he said warmly, affectionately. He refused to call Dean a ‘pain slut’, and for that Dean had always been thankful. 

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled. 

Julian leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Float, little one,” he whispered tenderly. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Dean’s lips quirked under the kiss. “Mkay, old man,” he whispered back. 

“Brat,” Julian huffed, no heat behind the word. “Rest. You earned it.” 

Dean smiled and closed his eyes more fully. “Lo’e ‘ou.” 

Julian smiled as he got up, walking over to undo the spreader bar from Dean’s ankles. “I love you too, little one. More than anything in the world.” 

Dean was asleep when Julian sat back down, a large jar of arnica cream in hand. Julian didn’t mind. He knew Dean was worn out. They had been playing for the better part of three hours. He massaged the cream into the blooming, bruised welts he had left behind, whispering praises to his younger boyfriend. When all the welts had been taken care of, Julian gently and carefully pulled Dean onto the bed more fully before shedding the rest of his clothes. Dean loved it when he was mostly dressed while Dean was naked. Julian’s not sure why, and never questioned it. Besides, it fit better. 

Down to his boxers, he crawled on top of the bed and pulled his husband closer, ignoring the ache between his own thighs. 

That was for Dean. 

Dean snuffled in his sleep and nuzzled into Julian’s shoulder. Melting at how adorable his husband was, Julian kissed Dean’s sweaty forehead and closed his eyes, content to take a nap with his husband. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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